


Meddle About

by jyuto



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Banter, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, and finally: sanson tops, ears as erogenous zones, let's see, vague attempts at powerplay but nothing comes out of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyuto/pseuds/jyuto
Summary: An idea hadstruckhim earlier, and while he wasn't sure just how good of an idea it might actually bein practice, his stubbornness encouraged him to try to go through with it regardless.
Relationships: Sanson/Guydelot Thildonnet
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	Meddle About

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sanson’s conscience was busy yelling at him over the fact that they _should not_ be doing this in the Adders’ Nest of all places. The risk of their superiors being mere yalms away was far too great for him to ignore, and the poorly-placed wall Guydelot had chosen to press Sanson against did very little to hide them from any poor fellow who might accidentally stumble upon them. And yet despite every red flag the situation had raised in his mind, Sanson can’t bring himself to stop it or push Guydelot’s hands away.

“Guydelot,” Sanson shut his eyes in frustration ( _and embarrassment and arousal, if he was being honest with himself_ ) as the bard’s hands made their way down his chest. “Now is not the time for this!”

“Easy there, chief,” Guydelot leaned in to croon into his ear. “Someone’ll find us if you don’t keep it down.”

Sanson grumbled, craning his neck in an attempt to glare at the bard behind him. If Guydelot was dead set on doing this right now, the least he could do to keep even a shred of his dignity was to look utterly unhappy the entire time. _It was your idea_ , he could reproach later, though whether Guydelot would _listen_ was another matter entirely. Yes, that _could_ work, so long as Sanson could keep a straight face--

Instead, Sanson found himself gasping involuntarily as Guydelot pinched one of his nipples through his shirt. _So much for that_. Guydelot sniggered, bringing two of his fingers up to lightly tap at Sanson’s lips for entrance. Much to his shame, Sanson didn’t need to think twice about what to do: they’d done this more than enough times already. He gave Guydelot’s digits a cautious lick and opened his mouth, allowing Guydelot to caress the soft surface of his tongue as he lapped at the underside of his fingers. 

“Quite the whorish habits you’ve picked up from me, eh?” Guydelot gave a low hum of approval.

His free hand moved to palm at Sanson’s growing erection through his pants, drawing a sharp inhale from him. Guydelot grinned, using the hand that had been in his mouth just mere moments ago to tip Sanson’s chin towards him just enough to kiss him. They lingered on each other’s lips, and as always, it was Guydelot who deepened the kiss with a nip to Sanson’s tongue. The captain groaned, and any complaints he might’ve had about their odd angle and the strain on his neck were immediately thrown out the window. 

It was too much and yet not enough at the same time, and Sanson continued to grind into his lover’s hand in an attempt to gain further stimulation. He felt heat beginning to build up in his lower belly, and if Guydelot continued to do _that_ , then he would surely--

Guydelot gives, and Guydelot takes away. Much to Sanson’s dismay, Guydelot’s hands are gone in an instant. Sanson can not help the frustrated whine that escapes him.

“And here I thought you were against the idea of doing such things in a place like this,” Guydelot teased, fixing his collar. Sanson merely scowls, face still flushed from their... _activities_ that Guydelot had brought to a halt mere moments ago.

“I-I am, though I would much rather you have your way with me quickly rather than unfairly fluster me so!”

Guydelot laughed. "Well, at least you're living up to your epithet, Sanson the Stiff," he motioned towards Sanson, who can do little else but roll his eyes. "Unfortunately, I've got to take my leave. Got some things to attend to and whatnot. I'll see you later, chief!"

And with that, Guydelot was gone, leaving the riled-up lancer to sulk over the neglected hardness in his pants.

_'Things to attend to'... as if he's not some irresponsible scoundrel,_ Sanson grumbled to himself. He'd gotten him all worked up mid-workday only to disappear moments later on purpose, of course, leaving him to ache for his touch the rest of the day. Sanson looked down at his trousers and sighed. 

As much as it pained him to shirk his duty, it was clear he wouldn’t be able to get his mind off Guydelot now; he reluctantly excused himself for the rest of the day, hastily making up some story about how he'd succumbed to some illness or another. Miraculously enough (perhaps the gods were smiling on him following that pitiful display), Commander Heuloix directed him straight home, lest he exhausted himself mid-battle or get the troops sick. 

Rather than heading home, however, Sanson found himself at the bard's barracks, lying in wait for Guydelot to return from… wherever it was that he had escaped to. An idea had _struck_ him earlier, and while he wasn't sure just how good of an idea it might actually be _in practice_ , his stubbornness encouraged him to try to go through with it regardless. 

Instead, and much to his chagrin, Sanson found his own patience beginning to run thin. It had been a few hours and there had yet to be any signs of the bard making his way back home. Perhaps Guydelot _did_ indeed have responsibilities to attend to after all, and perhaps this had been a bad idea, and-

The sound of the nearby door being swung open snapped him out of his thoughts and nearly made him squeak in surprise, but he managed to remain calm and out of Guydelot's sight. Sanson observed as he hung his bow upon the nearby wall, grumbling to himself about some archer whose name Sanson only vaguely recognized. He held back the urge to laugh, lest he play his hand too early and foil his own plans.

Guydelot barely had time to turn towards and register Sanson’s presence before the lancer was on him, turning him against the opposite wall and pinning his wrists behind him in one swift movement. 

"Seven Hells, Sanson!" Guydelot growled, as he struggled against Sanson’s weight with little success. “Talk about an unpleasant surprise!”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be so had a _certain someone_ not gotten me so worked up earlier,” Sanson huffed, giving Guydelot another rough shove into the wall. He had always been willing to allow Guydelot to have his way with him: his stubborn nature in the battlefield did not translate well into matters of the bedroom, rather he was more sheepish when it came to that. But perhaps some disciplinary action was in check-- struggle as he might, Guydelot certainly seemed intrigued by the change in Sanson’s demeanor. That would certainly make things easier for both of them.

“Hardly my fault I had matters to attend to!” Guydelot hissed from beneath him. And then, with a smirk, “Are my hands truly so skilled that even now, hours later, our dear captain is still thinking about them?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Sanson rolled his eyes, shifting in discomfort. “But… Yes, I do suppose it’s true that I have not been able to get my mind off you.”

“Who knew you had it in you to be so bloody cute?” The bard chuckled. “Now, unhand me, so I can--”

“No.”

“...No?”

“I want to-- for a change,” Sanson sputtered. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. “ _You know_. Be on top.”

Guydelot raised his brows in amusement. “Oho! Our chief wants to fuck me for a change?”

“Don’t make fun of me!” Sanson’s grip on Guydelot’s wrists tightened. “... After all-- it _is_ true that I am your captain.”

“Which is why I call you ‘chief’,” Guydelot helpfully added, though his tone of voice made it clear that he wasn’t taking this seriously at all.

“And-- it is I that dons the uniform of the Twin Adder,” Sanson chose to ignore the snarky remark for now. “Which means, you are to do what I order you to do.”

“If you insist,” the bard hummed.

“I-- No, I am not insisting. That would imply disobedience on your part, and weakness on mine in that I have to try to barter with you to follow your superior’s orders.”

Guydelot burst out into laughter. “Looks like you _do_ have it in you! Somewhat. I can hardly take you serious--mmph!”

Sanson’s hands--after finally having let go of his wrists a few moments prior, which had been when Guydelot had taken the opportunity to turn around to face him--found their way onto his lapels, and the lancer used these as leverage to pull Guydelot down into a kiss. The bard made a noise in pleasant surprise, but quickly reciprocated the gesture and nipped at Sanson’s bottom lip playfully. Sanson grunted, and in turn, slid his hands up Guydelot’s neck and jaw until they reached his ears. Guydelot gave a low moan in appreciation as Sanson dragged his fingers down the length of his lobes.

“Oi, now that’s simply not fair,” Guydelot groaned. 

“Be quiet,” Sanson’s mouth was close to one of his ears now, his fingers working to rub at the delicate skin behind it. The warm breath on his ear made Guydelot shiver, and he placed his hands on Sanson’s shoulders for strength when the lancer decided to drag his tongue over the shell of his ear. Sanson’s other hand was busy toying with his other ear, using the entirety of his palm to rub and pinch and _pull_ at it.

“A-Ah, isn’t that enough of that?” Guydelot managed to choke out. “Won’t be--ah, anything left for you if I come now.”

“Oh, worry not,” Sanson’s mouth hovered over the end of his pointy ear. “I’ll make sure you can come more than once tonight.”

The wet heat of Sanson’s mouth as he gave his ear a harsh suck is almost unbearable, but it was the nip of teeth that followed that sent Guydelot over the edge. A loud cry escaped him as he came in his pants, clinging unto the Hyuran man for dear life so as to not collapse unto the floor beneath him. 

“Mm, well, that’s rather unpleasant,” Guydelot made a face while looking down at his trousers. “Couldn’t have allowed me to change beforehand, at least?”

“Take them off, then,” Sanson ordered. Guydelot did as told for once and quickly slipped out of his thighboots in order to slide out of his culottes. “You won’t need the coat either.”

“Rather unfair that I’m entirely naked and yet you haven’t lost a single article of clothing,” Guydelot complained, taking a moment to remove the belt on his coat before tossing it aside along with his gloves. “That simply won’t do.”

“And who are you to decide?” Sanson challenged. 

“Good to see you’re gaining some confidence!” Guydelot chuckled. “I suppose it’s easier to play the role when you’re giving orders on the daily anyway.”

“Yes, and as per usual, they’re orders you don’t care to follow,” Sanson sighed in irritation.

“Oh, come now, we’re just having some good-natured fun, aren’t we?” Guydelot chuckled again, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm as he kneeled in front of Sanson. “Let me take care of this for you, then,” he placed the palm of his hand over the tent in Sanson’s pants. “To return the favor, I mean.”

“... Go ahead,” Sanson narrowed his eyes at the man beneath him, but his cock ached in anticipation as Guydelot worked to remove his boots and then unbelt his hose. He gave a moan of relief when Guydelot finally pulled his smalls off to the side, scooting closer towards the bard without even realizing it.

“Eager, are we,” Guydelot murmured, brushing his lips against Sanson’s dick and resisting the urge to take him into his mouth right there. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Sanson inhaled. “Do something about it.”

“Ah? But I thought I was supposed to be taking orders?” Guydelot played coy. “Haven’t a clue what I should do otherwise. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Sanson resisted the urge to rub at his temples in frustration. “I--” he began, trying to think of the right words. “Use your mouth.”

_Good enough_. Guydelot hummed, beginning his ministrations by lapping at Sanson’s member, running a long line of saliva from the base of his cock to his head. He tentatively closed his lips over it, running his tongue over the slit, and Sanson threw his head back in pleasure.

Guydelot briefly wondered if he could get him to beg, but that thought was quickly washed away when Sanson’s hands found their way into his hair and tugged at it to pull him _closer_. Guydelot sucked harder, taking the entirety of him into his mouth with ease as Sanson guided him further down. He hummed happily around the length of Sanson’s cock, a tune he’d been busy composing for a few days now, and with the noises Sanson was making above him, Guydelot was surprised he hadn’t come already. Even more surprising was the fact that Sanson was quick to shove him away just a few moments later when his dick began pulsing in Guydelot’s mouth and as the bard lapped happily at the precome that had begun to leak from his tip. Guydelot raised a brow in confusion.

“ _Guydelot_ ,” there was no time for the bard to make a snarky remark before Sanson had pulled him up into the bed with him, kissing him and entangling their limbs together until Guydelot was lying beneath him. Reverently, Sanson pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck, working his way down his shoulders and the length of his back with his mouth. Guydelot hummed in contentment as Sanson mouthed at the small of his back.

“Ah? You’re going to fuck me after all?”

“Don’t be so crude,” Sanson reproached, but the tone of his voice held no real bite to it. He left one final kiss at the base of Guydelot’s and paused for a moment. “... but yes. I’ll have to prepare you first.”

“Mm. There’s a vial of--”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sanson replied off-handedly, more concerned with tugging Guydelot’s smalls down to his knees. He remained quiet as Sanson spread his ass cheeks apart, shivering as he felt him breathing heavily over his entrance. 

Cautiously, Sanson pressed the flat of his tongue against Guydelot’s entrance and looked up just in time to watch the way his ears burned red at the gesture. He smiled to himself, teasing along the pink skin of his hole.

_“Gods above_ , _Sanson_ ,” Guydelot cursed. “Who knew you had it in you?”

“I’m full of surprises,” Sanson hummed into his skin. He took a moment to dip the tip of his tongue into Guydelot’s entrance before pulling away just as quickly. “This is… alright with you?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Sanson took note of just how ragged Guydelot’s breathing had become already. “You’re not one to leave things half-finished, are you, chief?”

“Of course not,” Sanson scoffed, returning to the task at hand and giving Guydelot’s hole broad, flat strokes with his tongue. Guydelot’s thighs twitched beneath Sanson’s palms as the bard pushed his hips further back into his face. He licked a path down from Guydelot’s entrance to his balls, moving one of his thumbs up to rub at his asshole. Guydelot groaned.

Taking this as encouragement, Sanson pushed his thumb inside and Guydelot all but whined. Hooking both of his thumbs into the rim of his ass, Sanson slipped his tongue inside, pushing it down against his inner walls and letting his teeth scrape around his hole every so often. 

“ _Sanson_ ,” Guydelot gasped out, reaching underneath himself to fist at his aching cock and giving a moan in relief. “Oh, Gods, Sanson, please. You’re so good at this, you’re so--”

Guydelot’s movements became more desperate and erratic as he got closer and closer to his climax, and it was quite the sight, seeing him of all people lose restraint like this. Sanson fucked him with his tongue in earnest, keeping a steady pace as Guydelot’s moans rose in pitch and even as he came. One curl of his tongue is all it took to have the bard burying his face into the bed, asshole tightening around Sanson’s tongue as he came for the second time that evening. 

“I’ll-- I’ll take you now,” Sanson wiped the spit and drool off his chin as he kneeled behind Guydelot once more, nudging his legs further apart. Guydelot could only whine in response, mind hazy after two orgasms. “Should not take too long to...”

Sanson spit into his hand and hastily ran his fingers over his own cock, only then realizing just how _pent up_ he was. He squeezed at the base and groaned.

“Don’t tell me you worked me open for nothing,” Guydelot complained. “Just going to get yourself off alone now?.”

“You’re… You’re still up for it?” Sanson replied. “Even after you…?”

“Seven Hells, Sanson,” Guydelot rolled over to face the other man and gave him a pointed look. “You say that as though it’s my first time doing this.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Sanson murmured, admiring the way he was met with no resistance as he guided himself in. It was likely because-- well, Guydelot was an Elezen man, after all, but Sanson would like to think it was because he had done a good job of preparing him earlier; no one was going to correct him anyway, and Guydelot was still tight enough around Sanson’s cock to draw a long moan out of him as he bottomed out inside of him. 

“Sanson,” Guydelot whined. “Gods, I can’t--”

“No going back on your word,” Sanson grunted, nails digging into Guydelot’s hips as he pushed himself in and out, leaving behind visible marks as he went harder. It didn’t take long for Sanson to find the angle that made Guydelot give a little moan with each of his thrusts. “Guydelot--”

For once, it seemed the bard had nothing to say at all. The only thing Guydelot could do was sob as the third orgasm hit him, tightening around Sanson’s cock as the rest of his body fell limp in exhaustion. Sanson held his hips down, thrusting two, three more times before he came as well, spending himself in Guydelot.

Guydelot gave a few strained whimpers beneath him, still shivering with the aftershocks. He hissed as Sanson slipped out of him and collapsed atop his chest, holding him close and closing his eyes in contentment.

“You’ve,” Guydelot managed to breathe out after a few minutes. “You’ve certainly _made your point_.”

Sanson groaned. “I would _hope_ so,” Guydelot’s fingers gently tangled through his hair. “I would very much rather _not_ do that again.”

“As if it wasn’t your idea in the first place,” Guydelot snorted. “If anything, _I_ should be the one complaining. Don’t think I’ll be able to get it up again for quite a while.”

“Liar,” Sanson shook his head. And then, after a moment of realization, “Oh, Gods, I’ve certainly made a mess, haven’t I? I’ll… I’ll take care of washing your clothes and sheets for you.”

Guydelot chuckled. “Aye, you will, but not at this very moment.”

“Yes, I suppose it _is_ quite late… Are you feeling quite alright?” Sanson touched his cheek affectionately, brushing his lips over that same spot.

“I’m not one to be knocked down so easily, as you ought to know,” Guydelot replied. “ _But_ , perhaps I’ll have to take some time off from my duties to recover. An entire moon will do.”

“Guydelot!” Sanson scowled.

“I jest!” the bard laughed and then, after a few moments of silence, allowed himself to doze off, warm and content. 

**Author's Note:**

> I like it when the talkative ones are forced to shut up for a change. 
> 
> see everyone talks about how it's Sanson with the uniform kink but I think it should be the other way around sometimes! unfortunately I'm not skilled enough to write that but maybe someday. kind of hard to think about the twin adder uniform in a sexy way anyway so we can all just pretend it's his stormblood outfit instead.
> 
> I really don't like the way I write porn these days but that's probably just me being really self-critical of my own writing; hopefully you all will enjoy, though. thanks for reading!


End file.
